PostShow Chat
by Tristan-the-Dreamer
Summary: .New Blood. “Your basic premise is unethical,” Val said. “Explain yourself,” Leo countered. “What ethics are you referring to and how are we violating them?” Rated T for brief language and frank mention of anatomy, in medical context. Bonus included.
1. PostShow Chat

**"Post-Show Chat"** by Tris

**MAJOR SPOILERS FOR NEW BLOOD! I FORGET WHICH CHAPTERS. **And, of course, all characters and such belong to Atlus not me.

Trauma Center: New Blood. "Your basic premise is unethical," Val said. "Explain yourself," Leo countered. "What ethics are you referring to and how are we violating them?" Rated T for brief language and frank mention of anatomy, in medical context. Oneshot, complete, bonus coming soon.

A/N: I am really not a Bello fan, but I don't believe in bashing any characters, except just as a joke sometimes. He annoys the heck out of me, but you have to wonder why he started Miracle Surgery. Why not just become a regular Dr.? There has to be some heart in him, although I do not sugarcoat his aggravatingly abrasive personality. And finally, I pretty much wrote this because Irene annoyed me when she made such a general vague statement about the show being unethical. Come on, let's get some details!! Frankly most of this story is Leo talking. I didn't write this to get fluff out of my system; I just wanted to listen to his story. But if you gotta have fluff…see the bonus! Just for fluff lovers. Up soon I promises. Final, final note: No I am not going to scrap my Robert story!! I just need to hone the emotional tone and dialogue and flip some things around, then the second and final chapter will be put up.

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Dr. Leonardo Bello leaned back in a folding chair, sweat soaking his ginger hair. He pulled the amethyst polar fleece blanket tighter around his shoulders and rubbed his head, still trying to shake the effects of the anesthetic. He'd recently come to from the sedative Markus had injected him with to give his overworked body a break. And now Markus was looking at him with troubled eyes. 

"Leo…" he hesitated. "Tonight, Miracle Surgery—"

"Not now, Markus!" Val said sharply.

"The show has been canceled." Markus went on doggedly. "Would you consider working for Caduceus? Dr. Tsuji tells us your skills are exceptional."

"Kenae works for Caduceus?" Dr. Bello raised his eyebrows. "Now there is a great surgeon. I never saw such determination in another human being…but no, if Miracle Surgery is canceled, I must resign as a surgeon. I've worked for it so long…I will never operate again."

"What have we done?" Elena whispered, putting her hand to her mouth.

"Dr. Bello, I strongly advise that you take some time to consider this," Val counseled. "Markus and I have worked many places. Being uprooted from old friends and settings and adjusting to new is hard, but it can be done. Please don't toss aside all your hard work and potential just because one option is no longer available."

"You…don't understand. Miracle Surgery stands for everything I believe in. Since before Med School I've wanted to change the medical system. I've wanted to make medical care available to everyone. This was my first modest step—"

"Modest, psh..."

"--and now it's crushed. I don't understand how you can call yourselves doctors when you oppose helping sick people!"

"Now wait—wait a minute," Markus said, cynical grin evaporating. "The reason Miracle Surgery was shut down—"

"Don't speak passively, Doctor. YOU shut Miracle Surgery down, it didn't GET shut down. And why? You didn't give us a chance—didn't explain why you disagreed with the show. Just like _that_," he snapped his fingers, "you turned off our dreams. You are the most extreme example of intolerance I have ever seen! We weren't helping people the way _you_ wanted, so you squished the life out of us! We could have changed. We were going to change!"

"How is that possible?" Val questioned. "Your basic premise is unethical."

"Explain yourself. What ethics are you referring to and how are we violating them? As medical professionals, surely we all agree with the phrase "Primum non nocere," that is, first do no harm. Now I would like to know: how is it harmful to provide free medical care to those who desperately need it? Likewise, I see only good coming from letting others witness the miracle of operation. So many will be inspired to save lives, not to mention they'll gain knowledge of the human body _and_ the potholes in our medical system. Show me the harm!"

"Uh…" Val was momentarily stunned, but she rebounded quickly. "People on your show don't have any privacy. What if they have a serious medical condition they don't want the whole world to know about? And what about the actual physical exposure?"

He shook his head with a condescending sigh that bordered on amusement. "Didn't you think to visit our website before you came on the show?"

"No one told us you had a---"

"I checked it out," Markus put in. "What's your point?"

"You must have missed page three of the _About Miracle Surgery_ link. There I personally explained the answer to your questions, Dr. Blaylock. You see, while it's true that a prerequisite for receiving medical care from us is being featured on our show, we're not heartless by any means. If someone has a condition they wish to remain secret, or they become paralyzed at the thought of being on TV, we will operate in a private O.R. away from any cameras."

"But what if— "

"Excuse me, Nurse Salazar, I am not finished," Leo raised a tawny eyebrow at her. "If you will allow me to continue… the patient who chooses this route appears directly before and two weeks after the surgery, telling as much as they feel comfortable. And, appearing in silhouette is an option. May I state clearly that during the private operations we never fail to arrange to have a top-quality surgeon and nurse team observe. In case of lawsuits, they are free to say anything. This team may not be known to you but they are quite prestigious. Ah yes, Dr., in answer to your second question: even if the patient is a comfortable laid-back type, we have limits as to what we will show. A more…shall we say 'delicate'…operation is always performed in seclusion. I actually carry this around with me—" he fished a folded, worn paper out of his pocket and handed it to Val.

She unfolded it and began reading. "'Male patients—50 percent thigh and down; waist and up. Female patients—shoulders to hands; feet to five inches above kneecap; head to collarbone; pelvis to two inches below breasts.'"

"And does your show adhere strictly to this?" Elena asked coolly.

Leo knifed her with his eyes. "We follow the limits as much as possible, but I sense you're asking if we've ever gone more than a millimeter out of the parameters. The answer to that is yes, but if you have letters of complaint, please! Show them. I await eagerly."

"No, we don't have any letters of complaint," Markus said wearily. "But Dr. Bello, the whole reason we had to appear on your show so quickly, with little time to prepare, was because—"

"You bashed Caduceus without proper information!" Val snapped with an explosion of her fiery spirit. "You assumed we wasted taxpayers' money without doing research to discover how we really spend it. 95 percent of our budget is spent on our core priorities, and we are making great strides in medical advancement. You didn't even notice that the last operation we performed here involved synthetic arteries. We couldn't have saved Meredith without them!"

"Oh, I see," Leo said with wry bitterness. "You're snuffing us out because we put a fly in your ointment. Well, I'll remember that. Next time someone badmouths me, I'll crush them to dust!" He crossed his arms fiercely.

"That's not true," Markus said patiently. "We—and that includes the Director of Caduceus—thought the show was unethical even before you tarnished our reputation. Val pointed out the privacy issue, but face it, being influenced by your audiences' reactions is unavoidable."

"Please elaborate, Dr. Vaughn," Leo said with mock interest and a smirk.

"How can you stay focused when you know you're being watched carefully by millions of people?" Markus began with a sigh.

"Dr. Vaughn, you seem to be suggesting that physicians have no willpower or backbone! Really, if I know what's best for the patient, why wouldn't I do it? I appreciate the support of the audience, but for the most part they're laymen. Now if they wanted me to remove a tumor X way and I say it should be Y way, who am I going to listen to, grocery baggers and accountants—noble jobs, incidentally—or my own mind which has been trained at the best medical school available? Moreover, if I actually listened to what they wanted and the patient died, how would that help anyone? No, I am not swayed by anything." He held up a palm to emphasize his point.

"And you really are not distracted by this…" Val sniffed like a disgusted cat in the direction of Guy Davidson, who was writing out an autograph to the gaffer. "…pompous moron of an announcer?"

"Val, please," Markus muttered.

Leo eyed her sharply. "David is silly and vain and deserves a medal for his egotism, but he's a great man nonetheless. Why do you think he works here? He could get any reporting job he wanted. He is one of the few that truly shares my vision; we go out for a beer sometimes to talk shop, how to improve the show, and so on. He always gets excited when we talk about the success of the show. Did you know—probably not, you barely read our website—people are coming to us all the time and begging to be let in. You fool, we have a waiting list two hundred patients long! This just proves how desperate people are for medical care. Where are they going to go now? Will you treat them for free?"

"No," Val sighed. "We couldn't handle all the patients."

"Exactly," Leo said, stabbing his index finger into his pant leg for emphasis. "You focus on research, while we focus on the actual patients. You've hamstrung yourself, I believe. You're dumping patients into the street that now have nowhere to go. Many of them cannot work due to their illness, so they won't be able to afford a roof over their heads. I imagine you'll have people banging on your door, people that we would have welcomed with open arms. But you'll turn them away to die in the gutter." He gave the last four words a sick, gleeful tone.

"That's garbage!" Markus yelled, his face turning the color of a bruised plum.

"Oh really? So you actually are going to start treating the poor full time? I wonder what will happen to your research. Fade away, most probably."

"Now hold it," Val said firmly. "You say this show was a step toward getting people everywhere better medical care, but how would that have happened? You say your waiting list was huge; it would have just kept growing and growing. What would have been your next step to branch out?"

"Well, since you asked I'll tell you. The Miracle Surgery staff had our annual meeting last month and brainstormed plans for the future. One of the key ideas that came up was to start increasing audience involvement. We would do this through televised fund raisers. To ensure the donors felt their money was being put to good use, we would keep careful financial records and send reports to the donors, personalized newsletters if you will, telling of how their money saved lives. Any photogenic patients would be welcome to send their pictures for inclusion, or write short autobiographies. With the donor money we were also going to hire new staff and "branch out" like you said, to a second studio. Although the show was scheduled to continue, we were going to start using pseudonyms on the show and in the newsletters and begin phasing out all the glitter."

"Then why did you have it in the first pla—"

"Miracle Surgery as it is now and as you so rashly assumed would stay forever, was just the first stage of the life of a young organism. Once we had people interested, it was going to take on a second form, then a third. But you didn't let us explain. You had no imagination and no thoughts at all for the future. You have dealt a death blow tonight, doctors. A deathblow to the potential of a unique and promising grassroots medical community. I would not like to be in your shoes right now."

"Val, Elena, let's leave," Markus muttered. The three slipped out of the studio, trying not to slink, and headed for their car in a slightly dazed state.

They were halfway across the sun-soaked parking lot when Val dared to speak. "Did we really do the right thing?"

No one answered.


	2. Fluffy Bonus

"**Post-Show Chat Bonus"** by Tris

A/N--First: Yes I realize Markus gave the sedative in the other version. It's a parallel universe or something. Second, if you do not like sweat, don't read this. Third, the cameraman guy in this story is from New York or somewhere near there. I don't know why. Ask him. ;D

Yeah, so this is just some fluffers picking up right after Val finished her big speech. Now TCGeek is right in saying that Dr. Leo (I hate his last name's guts, sry,) was foaming at the mouth. I tried to figure out why this might be, but all I turned up was choking and I don't think that was it. So—and anyone who wants shoot a correction—I'm going to just say it was EXTREME fatigue. Maybe irresponsible use of the HT has other side effects we weren't aware of…? So yes let me make it crystal: this is a bonus, not really needed to get the first part. This might not have really happened, but you know what? I DON'T CARE! I wanted to write it so I DID. Enjoy, and thank so you much for the reviews so far. MoonCat, you probably don't know how happy I was to get a review from you! You're always so deep and thoughtful and just awesome! And Juicy, now that I got this up, guess where I'm going? Yeah that's right, time to chill with teh Nekos!!

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"Great speech, Val," Markus chuckled, slapping Val on the back. "You showed them!"

"I hope I didn't overdo it," Val said sheepishly. "But I felt I had to get that off my chest, for all of us. Hey…" she broke off. "Where's Bello?"

"Yeah, you're right," Markus said, scanning the studio. "He was in bad shape. Maybe they took him to the E.R.….excuse me!" he accosted a cameraman. "Have you seen Dr. Bello?"

"Yeah, dey took him in that room dere," the man jerked a thumb in the direction of an ajar door before returning his attention to his sandwich.

"What? They didn't give him any medical attention?" Markus' voice rose in anger. He grabbed an armful of supplies and the other two followed suit.

"I guess we're not finished yet," Elena murmured as the trio headed to the room. Markus pushed the door open tentatively. They found Leo sprawled on the floor, on a pile of old blankets. He was breathing erratically, foam dripping down his chin, sweat drenching his ginger hair and distorted face.

"This is unbelievable!" Markus raged. "The main attraction of a medical themed show, tossed aside like a bag of trash when there is sophisticated equip—"

"We have to focus, Markus," Val said, dropping to her knees beside the piles of blankets. "Elena, help me assess his condition!"

They went over him quickly and thoroughly. "Extreme fatigue," Elena decided. "We know this is from overuse of the Healing Touch, but I have never treated…" the nurse hesitated before turning to her superiors. "I suggest mild sedation."

"Why…couldn't I use…Healing…" Leo groaned in frustration and agony, twisting on the floor.

"Markus? Your opinion?" Val questioned. She lay a comforting hand on Leo's arm while studying Markus' expression.

"Yeah, I agree. Let's knock him out for now."

Elena drew a syringeful of sedative while Markus rolled up his white sleeve. Val soaked a cotton ball in alcohol and wiped down the skin before the nurse pierced it with the needle and depressed the plunger slowly and evenly.

"What are you…doing…" Leo mumbled, swatting weakly at them.

"We're giving you a sedative, Dr. Bello; you're extremely worn out. We'll be here when you wake up."

"But…" his eyes closed, and he went limp.

"I feel so sorry for him," Elena whispered.

Val wrestled him out of his white coat. "Elena, can you get some wet paper towels and another blanket? Thanks."

"What's your plan, Val?" Markus squatted down as Val pulled the limp doctor into her lap.

"I want to get him cleaned up and comfortable. He's absolutely drenched in sweat…"

"I'm back," Elena said, coming into the room with full arms.

"Great! Okay guys, we need to mop up the sweat and clean his face." Val grabbed a wet paper towel and began tenderly wiping at the foam and saliva running off his jaw. "Markus, get his arms…Elena, can you do his neck?" Soon they had him all cleaned off and wrapped in a light blanket.

Val settled him back onto the blanket pile. "I think his breathing rate is going back down to normal…what do you guys think? Should we call an ambulance just in case?"

"No, he's looking a lot better already. But let's keep an eye on him, at least until he wakes up." Markus sat beside her, and Elena sat a little farther down, resting her hand on Leo's knee. The time passed, and gradually the showbiz doctor began breathing normally and had ceased perspiring. He stirred slightly.

"Elena, when do you think the sedative will wear off?" Val asked.

"About—"

"Unnnnnngh…" Leo mumbled, blinking his eyes open. "Who…what…the patient!" He struggled to sit up.

"She's safe, she's alive," Markus calmed him down. "Please relax."

"What happened to her? Where is she?" The doctor insisted.

"Our surgical team finished the operation. She's still under the anesthetic, but she'll be fine. She's in a recovery room on the other side of the building."

"You saved her?" Leo's blue-gray eyes were wide. "Thank you. I can never repay you…I thought I had killed her…the patients mean everything to me. If I had been responsible for her death…"

"It wasn't your fault. She was infected with Stigma, which you've never gotten a chance to see," Val explained.

"S-stigma?"

"Yeah. We have a little experience with it so we pulled through." Markus grinned. "…barely."

"Then I must study this disease…I never want this disaster repeated on my show!"

Markus, Val and Elena all stared sadly at each other.

"What?" Leo asked perceptively.

"We…uh…have something to tell you. But in a minute, Leo. Just rest for now, all right?" Val touched his shoulder gently and tried to smile.

"Hmmmm." The friendly light in Leo's eyes was rapidly replaced by a bright and burning suspicion…

_And it all ended there...for him…for his passion._

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Man, now I wanna write more about Leo and David! (I think Guy is probably a stage name so that's what I call him, David. Am I weird? Hm. Whatev.)


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